Accidental Coordination

The other day my friend Ellen said something that might seem like an impossibility or even an oxymoron: “I was accidentally coordinating…”. However, this is actually a wonderful reality of existence: accidental coordination is in fact what our whole life is about. In this chaotic series of accidents and coincidences, all that stands still like a pillar of truth is an unconscious coordination.

My home is in my shoes

I was recently having a conversation with Gerard and Fulco about traveling, when Gerard made a very true statement: “My home is in my shoes.” At least true for some of us… I wonder what makes people travel around in search of something else, something new, something that satisfies their curiosity. Because I am one of those people. I can feel at home wherever I go, no matter how far or strange the place is. The place does not matter much. It’s just like a temporary state of equilibrium, driven by the constant adaptation and reevaluation between people and their motivations. The place is just a context where friendships form or break, families come together or go apart, people get old or grow younger. And still, most of the value of a place is in the eye of the beholder and depends on the novelty of it. Whenever we get…

A poem

If I should be a poem I would dedicate my verse To the imponderability of nothingness. I would search to praise it For giving the chance for “something” to exist. Something is not Everything, Jut like Nothing is not Everything; Where the boundary lies, I cannot say; But maybe they are meant to coexist, Blended within each other, Like Water and Air, Like Love and Hate, Like Silence and Noise. If I should be a bird I’d flip my wings just because I’d have them, Just so I could move into a state Of perpetual grace and freedom, To give and receive the unmistakable truth Of the lightness that surrounds our borders. To testify that beyond the borders of rebellion There is the fulfillment of unstoppable motion – Floating into the great beyond, Like a demented fool who knows no other reality.

That internal body clock has a dry sense of humor

Why is it that some people will do anything to get another hour of sleep after 7 or 8 AM, while others can’t stand waking up late? I have fine examples of specimens from both categories. For me, the difference between night sleep and morning sleep is like the difference between strawberries grown in the green house and grandma’s strawberries from the garden behind the house. The latter is so sweet that you just lose your senses into bliss, dozing off and not minding that you might even get a nightmare (or “daymare”?) or two in the process. And oh, it comes with lots of dreams, too. Active, beautiful dreams, full of action, chasing, thrill, danger, and yes, in some of those lucky dreams, even flying, floating and falling (yes! adrenaline while sleeping!). I’ve heard friends saying it’s just a question of getting used to waking up early or late.…

The Bugs Bunny revelation

I finally realized what made Bugs such a special character among the other feisty chaps like Tweety Bird, Daffy Duck or the Road Runner. He had a certain nonchalance about him, which also could have been translated to “wackiness”. It was like a force of nature unraveled over the other poor characters, not keeping any side but constantly shifting positions for a better treat of merriment and distraction. He possessed both the joyful and the cynical side to make him an improbable, one-of-a-kind character. So I finally put together the pieces and concluded, in the same merry tone of Bugs’ unique spirit: all those carrots must have got him pretty high. Who said these cartoons were made for children, anyway?

Statistics and the brain midgets

A good friend of mine (Paul Nistor), recently engaged me in a discussion about Statistics and bravely stated that “Statistics is known to cause an exponential growth to the number of midgets on your brain”. This, of course, coming after his long years spent dealing more or less directly with this work field. You might wonder what the “midgets” are though… Well, everybody sees these “brain midgets” in a different way. Some say they’re the result of repetition and habit in judgment, which causes the well-known “prejudice”; although this is a sort of intellectual, unique prejudice that makes people act in their own crazy ways, according to the secret world and scale of values they have created for themselves. My view of the midgets is a bit more poetical, but nonetheless abstract: I think the midgets are those tiny scars left on your brain every time you feel or experience…

Too busy to be lazy

A friend and colleague at the Arnhem Business School (Jeshita Passat) was outraged by the amount of work she had to do last semester. The work seemed to never end and there was never time to relax. Then one of the tutors asked if during the spring break we will hang the usual student activities and just be lazy for a while. In response, she came up with the concept “too busy to be lazy”. Which is absolutely true and applicable to all those who are responsible for what they consciously get themselves into. But then there are still people who are busy enough to be lazy, isn’t it? 🙂

Humans are “poisoned” with a soul

“Humans are poisoned with a soul”, a friend of mine said recently (Fulco Helmig), referring to the majority of humanity cringing to religion as a way to find peace within themselves. Our souls fight continuously with our bodies. They should be one, body and soul, but instead, because we lack the ability to keep the balance between them, they are in a constant guerrilla fight. And so my friend came to a sad but true conclusion: “Everything great is built upon sorrow.” In the back of my head I know he is right, but still the optimistic little devil inside doesn’t want to let go of the twinkling little star and brings up the notion of “relativity”… What does great mean, and what does sorrow mean? On what scale? Who is there to judge?